


House Of Memories

by MemoreM



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Dad!Hopper, Everything Honestly, F/M, Fluff, Including the kitchen sink, M/M, Mileven Goodness, Multi, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, pre/during/post canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-02-03 01:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12738702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MemoreM/pseuds/MemoreM
Summary: Everything that is, was, and ever could be. A collection of drabbles and one-shots, and maybe even some story arcs here and there. But everything is 100% awesome.Latest Chapter: With Eleven’s fate obscured, what will happen to The Party?





	1. Word Of The Day: Opinion

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my madness. I think you’ll like it, too :)

“No.”

“What do you mean _no?_ You didn’t even touch it!”

“No.”

Chief Hopper groaned. “It’s just lettuce, kid. It’s not gonna kill you.”

El glared at him from under her mop of chocolate curls and pushed the bowl of salad to the centre of the table. “It’s gross. Mike says.”

_...Wheeler._

“El, you know not everything Mike says is true, right? You can’t go around believing everything he—“

“—Mike. Doesn’t. Lie.”

Hopper sighed, feeling the headache that was “teaching” coming on in full force. “I didn’t say he does, kid, I just said not everything he says is true. Ever heard of an opinion?”

“Op-in-ion?”

“Yeah, word of the day. O-P-I-N-I-O-N. Means how someone feels about something, and they’re different depending on who you ask. You can’t prove if they’re true or not, either. ‘Lettuce is gross’ is Mike’s opinion.”

El furrowed her brow, poking her fork around in the contents of the salad bowl. “So... not gross?”

“How about you try it. Find out.”

Hesitantly, El stabbed a large piece of lettuce and raised it to her mouth. She sniffed it gingerly; once, twice, before shoving it all into her mouth at once.

“...Nope. Gross.”


	2. Groceries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But did he buy the most important thing of all?

_Knock knock._

_Knock._

_Knock knock knock._

_Click._

“Hon, I’m home! Groceries incoming!”

She looks up from her crossword puzzle and grins. He’s home, and he has food, but...

_“Did you get—”_

There’s a chuckle from the front hallway that cuts off the end of her question. “Yes, of course. Every time I go to the store I get Eggos, don’t worry.”

He rounds the corner, snow still dusting his waves of dark hair, arms laden with shopping bags. Even bundled in his thick winter coat he still looks as gorgeous as the day she first laid eyes on him, soaking wet and trembling in the November rain of Hawkins. The sight of him still takes her breath away.

She smiles widely and lifts the weight of the groceries off his arms with a nod of her head, floating them to the kitchen table with ease. Little things like this don’t bother her anymore, but she still wipes at her nose out of habit. Her hand comes away clean, like it has for years now, and she reaches forward to brush the smattering of snowflakes off his shoulders.

“How did you know I was going to ask about the Eggos?”

He laughs, pulling her into his arms. She can feel the timbre of his voice rumbling in his chest, and it stirs the butterflies that live in her stomach, the ones that flutter incessantly whenever he smiles, or speaks, or holds her close.

“Because I know you,” he murmurs into her hair, his breath tickling her scalp. “Because I _love_ _you_ , El.”

Her heart still races when he says those three words.

“I love you too, Mike.”


	3. The Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gate was closed, that much was certain. But what Max and the others didn’t know was whether or not the fifth member of the party had survived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So, this chapter could be the beginning of a three-part arc, but I’m not entirely sure whether or not I want to write it. Therefore I want you, my dearest readers, to help me decide! See the end notes for my proposition ;)

“What if she hates me, Lucas? Like, even more than she already does?”

“She doesn’t hate you.”

Max rolled her eyes. “I said hi to her and she glared at me like I was Hitler or something.”

“She doesn’t even know who Hitler is,” Dustin chimed in from his seat on the floor next to where Will lay sleeping on the sofa. It had been the only way to pry Mrs. Byers away from her youngest son long enough for her to go change out of her sweat-soaked clothes; the kids promised up and down to stay right by his side, always watching. “At least I think she doesn’t. Hey Lucas, d’you think—“

“That’s not the point, idiot,” Max hissed. “The point is that Mike’s psychic badass girlfriend has _some_ kind of beef with me and I _really_ don’t want my neck snapped or my brains squeezed or—”

“She’s _not_ my girlfriend!” Mike crowed indignantly, stopping his constant pacing just long enough to shoot a glare towards the others. “And she’s not a murderer or anything either so just chill out and _shut up!”_  
  
“Whoa, okay, jesus. Pardon me for being concerned.”

Mike just scoffed and resumed his silent fretting, hands shaking at his sides as he wore down a groove in the Byers’ carpet. Max didn’t think she’d ever seen someone so anxious, so close to just completely breaking the _hell_ down, as Wheeler was tonight.

They’d already had a round one; everyone, whether they wanted to or not, had heard his and Hopper’s massive fight about Eleven’s survival and seclusion, their shouting resounding through the whole house until it slowly dissolved into muffled sobs and quiet murmurs. Max had pretended not to notice Mike’s red-rimmed eyes and hoarse voice when the two emerged from behind closed doors, or how he immediately ran to clutch El to his chest like his life depended on it; one trembling arm completely encircled her slim shoulders, the other pressed her head against his heart as he whispered softly into her hair, comforting her as they cried together. Nobody dared try to pull them apart before they were ready.

Then, when Eleven left with Hopper to destroy the Mind Flayer, Max could only watch as Mike crumbled apart, slumping against the porch banister in defeat the second the Chief’s blazer pulled out of sight. When Dustin finally coaxed him back inside after Mrs. Byers and Jonathan and Nancy left with Will, he barely even made it to the couch before he shut down, shrugging off all conversation with damn near masterful silence. He didn’t say anything for the longest time, just stared off into space, lost in thought.

But then something must’ve snapped, because suddenly Mike was all action, all fight, all one-hundred percent ready to lead everyone to almost certain _death_ in the tunnels because _someone_ had to distract the pack of bloodthirsty, inter-dimensional dog monsters, right?

And so they went down into the tunnels and set the hub on fire, and barely escaped with their freaking _lives_ , and the Byers and Nancy came back and Will was actually _okay_ , and everything was fine except for the glaring lack of one chain-smoking police chief and his MTV punk refugee kid. And that’s how Max ended up here, watching Mike Wheeler walk back and forth, over and over and over again, pale as a sheet and shaking like he’d chugged a whole gallon of espresso.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Max whispered to Lucas, who was doing his best to ignore the whole... _Mike_ situation. “He’s been pacing for like, half an hour straight.”

Lucas sighed, glancing out the window momentarily before turning to face the redhead. “Last time Eleven fought the Upside Down, we all thought she died. Mike was... well, you know how he was. If anything happens to her tonight, now that he knows she’s back...”

“...He’s gonna lose it,” Max finished quietly. As much of an asshole as Mike had been to her over the past few days, it still hurt to see him suffering like this. Besides, now that she knew about Eleven and the Upside Down, his behavior kinda made sense. He had been scared that the Party was replacing the girl who had sacrificed everything to save them, and the world was basically ending, _again_ , and it _is_ kinda hard to accept a newcomer into your secret monster-hunting group when you’ve got the freaking government breathing down your neck.

A string of muffled curses from the bathroom startled Max out of her thoughts, and she saw Dustin begin to fidget anxiously by Will’s side. _Must be Steve getting his face put back together,_ she mused, wincing as she remembered the sickening _thud_ of Billy’s fists against Steve’s skull. At least her asshole stepbrother was still out cold by the time they got back from the tunnels; Max got to drive him off to an abandoned lot a few blocks down and leave him there like the piece of trash he was. Serves him right.

Max’s eyes drifted from the bathroom door to Will, who slept like the dead, and looked only a shade better. When he returned from the cabin he was just as frail and sickly looking as he was when he left, but his eyes held a spark that wasn’t there before, and when he saw the rest of the Party wiping the tunnel grime off of their faces in the living room he grinned so widely that Max wondered if she had ever _really_ seen Will smile before. There were many teary reunions in the following moments, and despite all he had been through Will seemed to be just as full of energy as the others, but soon after he had settled onto the sofa his eyes had slid shut and his breathing evened out, fast asleep. In the dim lighting the shadows under Will’s eyes seemed to swallow half his face, but the corners of his mouth curved up in a sort of half-smile that made him look more relieved than anything else. Max wondered how long it had been since the boy had slept so soundly.

Then, the sound of crunching gravel in the driveway had four sets of eyes locked on the window in an instant. Mike barrelled forward, shoving his way past Lucas without so much as an apology before wrenching the Byers’ front door open with an echoing _bang!_ Max was next to follow suit, sprinting into the November chill despite her aching legs, Lucas close behind. Even Dustin leapt up from his watchful post by Will’s side to peer out the window at the scene unfolding.

By the time Max and Lucas reached him, Mike had stopped about halfway down the drive, frozen in terrified anticipation. The lumbering form of Chief Hopper bent to reach into the passenger side of the Blazer, wordlessly gathering _something_ into his arms before leaning back against the car, hunched in exhaustion, head bowed.

“...Chief?” Max breathed as she took a hesitant step forward, craning her neck to see past the open car door. He didn’t say a word, only pushed himself off of the Blazer with a pained groan before shouldering the door closed. Behind her, Max heard Mike’s breathing hitch as he fell to the gravel.

Because just barely visible in Hopper’s arms, limp and covered in blood, was Eleven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! Cliffhanger! So I need you guys to let me know in the comments whether or not you want the rest of this arc. As always, thank you for all your love and support, and I’ll be out with another chapter sometime in the next week or so! (Sorry it takes me so long to write I have hella ADD)


	4. The Return: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of The Return. With Eleven’s fate obscured, what will happen to The Party?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY EVERYONE. I have been working on my main project recently and totally skimped on writing this piece ;-;   
> I want to apologise to everyone who was kept waiting for the second instalment of The Return, and let everyone know that I’ve decided that this fic will only be receiving sporadic updates.
> 
> -Chris

First there was the calm.

Max’s eyes wandered down the trails of crimson that flowed from ears, from eyes, from nose and mouth. Dark makeup had smudged, casting haunting shadows under already-prominent bones; angry purple veins sprawled like lace under pale, translucent skin. Limbs fell in tangles from the arms that held the body like puppets with cut strings. It seemed almost natural to assume that the girl before her, the girl who saved the world twice over, was dead.

And then came the storm.

For a fleeting moment, Max could only think that the Demo-dogs had returned. A howling, tremulous shriek pierced the air, ragged and raw like the snapped necks and charred flesh of the beasts themselves. She whirled around, heart racing in her chest, almost certain she would come face to creepy-needle-toothed-mouth-face with her new worst nightmare.

In a way, this was more terrifying.

It was Mike.

His whole body shook with the force of the scream as he clawed fistfuls of his unruly dark hair, collapsing in on himself on the driveway. All Max could do was stare in silent horror as her friend doubled over, the last of his breath scraping its way out in a drawn, stuttering rasp. One by one his hands found new purchase in the gravel beneath him as he struggled to hold himself up, shoulders heaving as he tried desperately to gasp for air that never came.

He had lost it.

In the distance Max could hear the others as they burst out of the Byers’ house, shouting for her and Lucas and Mike, their fear returning in full force at the sound of the near-otherworldly cry that split the night. There was Dustin, spewing curses left and right, and Steve, spiked bat raised high despite his throbbing headache, and Nancy, freshly-washed hair still wrapped in a towel as she peered down the barrel of Hopper’s shotgun. There was Mrs. Byers, a bottle of rubbing alcohol in one hand and her lighter in the other, and Jonathan, standing guard on the front steps with his father’s revolver held in shaking hands, and Will, who had staggered onto the porch and looked on with wide-eyed terror. Max felt thin, strong hands— _Lucas_ —pull her out of the epicenter as everyone converged on Mike, who struggled to breathe through the primal despair of losing _her._

_Again._

But as Max looked tearfully between the rapidly crumbling expressions of the people she had grown to call friends, one remained at exhausted ease.

Hopper.

The Chief gently shouldered his way past Max to kneel beside Mike, settling onto his haunches as he shifted Eleven’s body in his arms. He reached out and placed a large, calloused hand on the boy’s shoulder, shaking him lightly.

“Mike?” Hopper murmured. “Michael, hey, look at me. Look at me, kid. Breathe.”

In a haze, Max pulled away from Lucas to get a better view of the trio on the ground. As Hopper pulled his hand away she could see Mike slowly lift his head, see the tears streaming down his face, the pain carved deep into his features. She could see the Chief smile at him softly, his eyes crinkling before he held out his arms and looked down at the girl who lay within them. And then—holy _shit_ —she could see what she had missed before.

_Her eyes were open._

Mike suddenly gasped, air finally rushing into his burning lungs as his gaze met Eleven’s.

_She survived._

In an instant he had lifted her out of Hopper’s hold and pulled her into a tight embrace, his shaky arms engulfing her thin frame with ease. He was sobbing now, quietly but so clearly relieved, and Eleven wept too; silent tears welled up in her bloodshot eyes, trickling down her face once they grew too heavy with emotion. Hell, even _Max_ was crying now, and a small part of her protested the break in her cool exterior, but after all that had happened tonight she couldn’t really be bothered to give a damn.

“Oh my god, you’re _alive,”_ Mike choked out between sobs. “You’re alive. I was so scared, El, but you’re alive.”

“Hell yeah she is,” Hopper grinned. “Kept mumblin’ about how she promised you, on the way back. Kid only shut up when she got too tired to talk.”

At that Mike managed a small, hiccuppy laugh, the sound of which sent a rippling sigh of relief throughout the rest of the party. One by one everyone dropped their weapons and slowly trickled forward, all tired smiles and whispered praise for the girl who defied death, once again, for their sakes. Max shivered in the cool November breeze; _this,_ she marvelled, _is a true family._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At some point there will be a third and final instalment! After that we will return to one-shot collections.


End file.
